Brothel Night a Sex Date Story
Copyright© 2021 by Pete Fox
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - It is Brothel Night at the prep school. The teen co-eds are raising money for charity. Hannah and her friends are the escorts. Zack and his dad attend along with parents and other adults to buy the girls favors. A new story exploring the what if in a near future where teenage sex dates and a bit of incest are the norm.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft Mult Teenagers Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual Fiction School Incest Group Sex Orgy Exhibitionism Voyeurism Big Breasts Clergy Prostitution
Intermission
Zack caught the applause from the lounge as he came down the stairs. Before he entered the bar area, he was met by one of the moms working at the event. He recognized the attractive blonde from church—except tonight, instead of a conservative dress, she wore a sheer black mesh chemise that clung to her perky breasts and revealed no panties.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Kamiński,” Zack said. She stood in front of him, dangling a wicker basket by its handle. Instead of Easter eggs, it held sanitary wipes and lotions.
“How are you, Zack?” she said in slightly accented English. “Wipes, maybe a mint?”
Her pale blue eyes watched him as he took a couple of packets from the pile.
“I guess I need a little break after my last ‘date’,” he said, watching her face for any reaction.
“I see.” Her expression didn’t give him a clue as to her thoughts. “Let me help you?” she said, looking down at his groin as he began to pull back the folds of his kimono.
“Uh, are you sure?” he said, unsure himself if the Polish woman was offering to clean his intimate areas.
“Here, give me those,” she said, setting the basket on a chair.
Mrs. Kamiński stepped into his personal space and took the damp cloths from him. She watched his eyes as her warm hand expertly found his flaccid member under the robe. They didn’t speak as she began to rub the cleansing moisture up and down his length.
“Umm, how’s Alicja?” he asked, referring to her daughter, who was a sophomore like him. He hadn’t spotted her among the girls, but he remembered her profile picture. As far as he knew, Alicja didn’t sex date.
“She’s fine. Alicja will be here tomorrow night with her dad,” Mrs. K replied, her thumb grazing his length.
“Oh, for the family night,” he muttered, flushing as the implications of that sentence hit him.
Mrs. Kamiński’s touch was gentle. She finished with the cleaning.
“Oh, too bad I’m not invited, though my dad will be there ‘observing’ as the corporate sponsor.” He said, probably saying too much.
“Yes, your dad’s company has been very generous,” she said, finally letting go. “There, nice and clean.” She stepped back, tossing the discarded cloths into a small trash can already half full of used ones.
“I think you need some lotion. I have just the thing to help your ‘little Zack’ recover.”
Mrs. K retrieved a plastic bottle from the basket and squirted a clear liquid into her palms.
“This might be a little cool at first, but I promise that you will feel ready to go again in no time,” she said, squatting in front of his open robe.
With her face level with his softness, she captured him in both hands. She slid her palms from root to tip until the lotion thoroughly coated his skin.
“Wow, you are right—a little cold, but it tingles too,” he said, shuddering at the new sensation.
It was also highly erotic watching Mrs. K tend to him in such a professional manner, especially as he suddenly felt himself thickening in her hands. Her breasts strained against the tight mesh chemise; he looked down at her chest as she squatted, treated to a deep view of her cleavage.
“Thank you!” Zack said, his voice a bit strained.
She stood. “If you like how the lotion feels, you and your dad should come by my store.”
Zack nodded, tying his kimono belt and tucking his reviving member back inside. “What’s the name?”
“Vanessa’s. Your dad knows it—we supplied the lingerie tonight, at a discount.” She smirked, hooking her basket over her arm once more.
“I’ll ask him,” Zack said.
“See you next time,” she said, her face finally showing a smile, her blue eyes sparkling a little as they said goodbye, for now.
Mrs. Kamiński gave his ass a playful swat as he moved past. He walked into the bar smiling for a number of reasons; it was far better having her tend to him than grabbing a couple of wet wipes and scrubbing himself in the bathroom like he’d done after sex with Maria.
His dad and Danika’s dad, Brad, were huddled at a table with a couple of other men. Zack wove through the lounge toward a spot near the bar, pausing to acknowledge the waitress, Malory, as she set a round of drinks down for the older men.
He sank into a small chair, reflecting on the encounter and anticipating what was next. There was still an hour to go before the official break and the entertainment. Zack exhaled, trying to relax as he drank a glass of ice water, remembering to hydrate. Around him, the room was a sea of gray kimonos. Men socialized with their peers. Some of the women were fully exposed, having discarded their lingerie. It was a very nice sight, indeed.
As he observed the crowd, he spotted Olivia at the first-aid station located on one side of the tent. The medic was a blonde twenty-something dressed in a micro-skirt, a sheer tube top, and a miniature cap perched on her head. She was focused on Olivia, who sat perched on an exam table in plain view. A digital monitor was strapped to Olivia’s arm while the blonde crouched between her wide-open legs.
Checking his device, he saw that Olivia’s name had flipped to yellow, marking her as temporarily unavailable, while Hannah and Danika both glowed red. Neither of them had returned from their sessions yet.
When Olivia was finished, he planned to invite her over—assuming she wasn’t immediately summoned back upstairs for another date. He tapped out a message to her on his device. The guest list was kept exclusive: only twenty-four men, one teenage boy, and thirty-one girls. Another dozen women managed the logistics as bartenders, waitresses, medics, the Madam, and her assistants—and, of course, Mrs. Long, the event chairwoman.
It was a lot of flesh to ogle. Maintaining a nearly one-to-one ratio kept the girls busy earning for the charity. The men, fueled by advanced pharmaceuticals like stims, could keep spending and fucking until the party ended or they collapsed. The exhausted, heavily used girls would sleep over and enjoy the run of the pool in the morning, complete with a catered brunch. According to what Hannah had told him, that was their immediate reward for hours spent on their backs.
Water wasn’t enough; Zack decided he needed something stronger and headed toward the bar. The sun had mostly dipped below the horizon, leaving the outdoor area bathed in the glow of imitation tiki torches and strategically placed floodlights. The station itself was a piece of old-school craftsmanship, featuring a heavy oak top and three padded stools. An athletic woman with the chlorine-bleached hair of a swimmer stood patiently behind the counter, smiling as he approached.
The bartender was taller than most of the girls, nearly 5’10” by his guess, with the long, lean musculature and broad shoulders of a competitive athlete. Unlike the teenagers, she wore a dark mesh chemise that molded to her athletic frame. Winking through the fabric were small, firm nipples on her round breasts. Glancing over the oak top, he saw no sign of a thong or pubic hair. However, he did notice two bracelets on her right wrist—one silver, the other gold.
“You like?” she asked, catching his prolonged stare.
“I do. You look great,” Zack said, meaning it.
“You must be Zack?” she said, lining up four shot glasses on a tray. She filled them with flavored Finnish Vodka—he’d read somewhere that the Russian variety had cratered in popularity since 2022.
“Yes,” he replied, then scanned her chest before meeting her eyes. “I don’t see a name tag?”
“Melisa. I’m your bartender for tonight and a founding member of this fundraiser.” She extended her hand, the bracelets on her wrist jingling with the movement. He recognized those bangles; he’d seen girls at school wearing them with a certain slutty pride.
Each girl who participated in a Brothel Night received a silver, engraved Tiffany & Co. bangle for every night she spent on her back for charity. Melisa had two—but one of hers was gold.
“How did you know my name?” he asked, his curiosity piqued as they shook hands.
“Not much to do back here but watch the room feeds on the monitors,” she explained. “I saw your little group session—it was well done. Plus, I had to find out who the only teen boy on the guest list was.”
“Thanks, I think,” Zack said. Since she had brought it up and was openly wearing the bangles, he figured it was safe to push. “How many of these have you actually participated in?”
“Let’s see ... I graduated from Saint-U last year. During my senior year, we held two Brothel Nights. The first time, it was just ten or so girls and an equal number of dads at a downtown convention hotel. It took off from there. By the spring event, it had doubled in size.”
As she spoke, her attention remained partially fixed on a smaller monitor at the edge of the bar, which flickered with a live video stream.
“Who are you watching?” Zack asked.
As he spoke, she flicked through the feed with a few taps on her device. “My dad is with some skinny blonde upstairs, and he’s giving her a hell of a ride,” Melisa said, a wistful note in her voice. “I’m almost jealous. I’m not that small anymore.”
Zack leaned in, looking at the screen only to see Hannah in action—again. Wow. The man on the monitor was standing, hoisting Hannah into a vertical 69 with his powerful arms. His face was buried between her legs while she struggled to take his length while hanging upside down.
“That blonde is my friend, Hannah. She lives across the street from me,” Zack said. He left out the part about their recent hookups, usually sparked by a late-night hot tub visit.
“She’s cute. What can I get you?” As she spoke, she slid the tray of shots toward a busty waitress with short, raven hair, who scooped it up without a word.
Zack watched her go. He didn’t recognize this one and hadn’t caught her name yet.
“A beer? I don’t really drink, so whatever you have. Just something stronger than the water I’ve been nursing.”
“We have a crisp beer from Bavaria. Let me pour you a pint.”
As she engaged the tap, Zack searched his memory for details.
“I remember seeing your name on the school social media. You graduated last year after shattering some swimming records,” he said. He’d always had a knack for retaining useless data.
Melisa spoke as she poured, “Nice of you to remember. With the season over at Vandy, I decided to train with my old club coach for a bit. There are several summer meets coming up that are US National Team qualifiers.”
“Very cool. I’d love to catch a meet if it’s local and watch you race,” he said, warming to the athletic, friendly blonde.
She slid a pint glass toward him, topped with a thick, foamy head.
“Show me your device, and I’ll give you my card. I’m a Tennessee State Registered Companion. Maybe we can work something out?” Melisa suggested, flashing a dazzling smile.
“Cool, though I’d have to clear it with my dad, of course.” They tapped their devices together, and he watched her profile populate on his screen.
“My rates are reasonable, and I think I can help you navigate some of the hurdles you’re going to face at Saint-U—not just in your academic life, but socially and sexually too,” Melisa explained.
“Sure. I’m just not even sure what a companion does, besides sleeping with older guys ... sorry if that sounded rude,” Zack admitted, shifting slightly on his stool.
“Not at all. It’s a newly regulated industry that launched alongside the Tennessee laws allowing private dating services like the one at Saint-U. A ‘companion’ is essentially an escort with a brain. We build long-term relationships tailored specifically to a client’s needs.”
“So, we’d have sex and actually talk?” Zack asked, boiling it down to the essentials.
“Exactly.” She flashed a knowing smile. “Message me next week. You can catch one of my swim practices, and we’ll talk more.”
As they spoke, they were joined by Olivia, who slid onto the open stool next to his.
“I’ll message you this week,” he said to Melisa before turning his attention to a pale-looking Olivia.
He and Olivia continued to chat with Melisa as they nursed frosty pint glasses of German beer. Olivia took a long sip and winced as she shifted in her seat.
“Passed the checkup,” she told him, “But the nurse basically told me I’m raw down here,” she pointed toward her pussy. “She gave me 800 milligrams of Advil to help with the throbbing and slathered a strong numbing gel all over my lips, so I don’t scream when the next guy touches me. It feels like ice down there now, but at least the stinging stopped,” Olivia said, glancing at her device.
Zack nodded—TMI—though his eyes were already drawn back to the monitor. The AI was cycling through the four most active rooms based on a pre-set algorithm. He couldn’t look away when Hannah’s room flickered onto the screen again.
“Well, Mrs. K spread some cool gel on my cock, too,” he said, his voice distracted as he watched the screen. They both drank, falling into a quiet companionship.
Hannah was no longer being hoisted upside down by Melisa’s dad. He was now leaning against the bedroom wall while she straddled him, riding his length with her arms locked around his neck. They were lost in a deep, hungry kiss. Hot.
The feed cycled again, settling on Rebekah. Zack tapped the control interface on his device, and the AI responded by zooming in, the high-definition lenses tracking the intense friction of the older man’s large cock buried deep inside her. As he pounded her from behind, her heavy breasts swayed erotically, rhythmic and heavy in the room’s dim light. The man reached forward, pulling her dark, curly hair back and delivering a sharp slap to her ass that left a red mark visible even through the digital feed.
Kinky he thought, another tap and the feed changed. Zack returned his attention to Olivia, watching her pretty face. She was relaxed and watching the screen with a faint smile as the clock neared 9:00 PM, the official start of the first break.
Zack knew there would be a show and an update on the funds raised so far. As girls and men began streaming into the lounge and onto the covered patio, the bar became a hive of activity. To avoid the crowd, he and Olivia relocated to a small table just a few steps away.
As they headed for an open spot, a cute blonde in a green crotchless thong caught his eye—Bethany. The Assistant Dean’s granddaughter was a recent transfer from Santa Barbara and a standout on the girls’ tennis team. Zack had spent plenty of time at the school’s sports complex admiring her trim, athletic frame, but seeing her here was different. Her skin had a sun-kissed, golden glow, and her breasts looked like a perfect handful on her fit, toned body.
“Join us,” he said as they reached the same destination.
Olivia claimed the single chair, leaving Zack and Bethany to settle into the loveseat together. Up on the stage, Mrs. Strong, Hannah’s mother, stepped forward in her body-hugging sheer mesh chemise and pulled a microphone from its stand. Behind her, the video screens switched away from the now-empty rooms, replaced by a banner welcoming them to Saint-U Prep’s 4th Brothel Night Weekend.
Standing beside Lisa was the estate’s owner, country music legend Charlie ‘Country’ Wilks. A tall, handsome man in his fifties, he cut a striking figure in a colorful, hand-painted kimono and a black cowboy hat. To one side, a pretty teenager with light brown hair surveyed the crowd, her eyes filled with visible nerves. Zack could feel the energy in the room shifting; with the clock just past 9:00 PM, the show was finally ready to start.
Both cocktail waitresses were weaving through the lounge, delivering drinks to the thirsty patrons and escorts. The second server, the busty, raven-haired teen, arrived at their table, dropping off shots for the three of them along with a glass of red wine for Bethany.
“Good evening, everyone. I am Lisa Strong, Chairwoman of this spring’s event. Welcome, and thank you for supporting the foundation’s scholarship and emergency relief fund.” She paused, her voice projecting clearly over the speakers as she scanned the covered patio and the lounge.
“On a personal, proud-mother note, my daughter Hannah—a freshman—is here tonight along with several of her classmates.” She gestured toward a table where a nude Hannah sat perched on the lap of the same distinguished older man Zack had seen dominating Rebekah in the video feed earlier.
Mrs. Strong glanced back at her tablet. “First, a big thank you to Charlie for the use of his magnificent estate.” She paused, allowing the applause to ripple through the room. “He’ll have a special announcement for us soon.” She flashed a smile. “But first, Charlie and the girls are going to put on a show for y’all.”
Off to one side of the small stage, Maria Gomez stood poised in her green cupless bralette and matching crotchless panties. The tiny top struggled to contain her heavy, double-D breasts.
Lisa glanced at her tablet again. “On the monitors and your devices, you can track the funds raised so far and see who is currently in the lead. As you can see, it’s a tight race. The real difference comes down to tipping. That means, girls, you need to start offering those extras.” She scanned the room, her gaze lingering on the escorts.
The screens behind Mrs. Strong shifted to a detailed bar graph. Each girl’s progress was mapped out, showing the base contributions from dates alongside the surges from additional tips. Zack noticed that while Hannah hadn’t cracked the top five, Rebekah was holding steady near the peak. It was interesting, though not surprising; while most girls were neck-and-neck in their number of dates, the leaders’ willingness to solicit extras made all the difference. Those in the lead had all been claimed in the first hour’s auction, giving them a head start on the night’s earnings.
Mrs. Strong looked toward where Hannah sat perched on the older man’s lap.
“Reverend Father O’Malley—our Dean of Admissions and the head of Saint-U’s scholarship program—is with us tonight. And, as you can see, he’s currently being entertained by my daughter,” she said, a note of maternal pride coloring her voice. “Father, would you like to say a few words?”
Hannah scooted off his lap to the cushion beside him as the priest stood. Now Zack recognized him. He couldn’t help but notice the sizable, semi-hard cock hanging between the man’s legs as he turned to face the room. On campus, O’Malley was a fixture in a simple black clerical collar or a formal Jesuit cassock; seeing him stripped of his holy vestments had thrown Zack off. He was completely naked, not even a kimono to cover his tall, athletic frame.
Without a microphone, Father O’Malley addressed the room, his voice projecting with practiced ease. “Thank you, Lisa. And to you, Charlie, a distinguished alumnus, for the use of your magnificent estate. To the men, thank you for spending your evening with us and giving so generously of your wealth. Because of these Brothel Nights, we’ve been able to bring many more youths to Saint-U who otherwise wouldn’t have the chance. And to our students ... we appreciate your unwavering dedication to providing such an entertaining evening.” He brought his hands together, leading a round of applause for the girls.
“Thank you, Father, for those kind words.” Lisa beamed at him as he settled back onto the cushion, pulling Hannah back onto his lap. For her part, Hannah had to maneuver her backside around his considerable length to get comfortable again.
“Now, from here on, clients can pool their funds for group play with a single girl,” Lisa continued, her tone shifting to business. “Or, if you think you have the stamina, you can request two or more girls for yourself. We’re also running a bukkake special. Request the girl, and as soon as you have three or more men, the game is on—but it has to happen right here in the lounge on the back couches.” She smiled, gesturing toward the seating area. “Got it? Great! You’ll see the option appear on your devices shortly.”
“A couple of reminders. We have Stims available at the nurse’s station if you need them. They are effective. I’m sure most of you will stop by for a patch to get the most of the evening.” She paused, then continued.
“This is very important as we move later into the night,” Lisa continued. “If your date passes out for any reason, her biometric band will alert the medic, who will perform a check. If she clears the exam, you’re free to continue. Having fun is the priority, but remember—she is someone’s daughter.” Lisa cast a brief, meaningful glance toward Hannah before moving on.
“Last announcement. Next Sunday afternoon, there’s a free presentation downtown at the Red Sparrow music cafe titled ‘Incest is Always Best,’ led by our very own school counselor, Ms. Franks. My husband and I will be attending, and I highly recommend it. If you’ve ever considered keeping sex in the family or are simply curious, this is the perfect seminar for you and your spouse.”
Damn, Ms. Franks, Zack thought. She was an eleven on a ten-scale—tall, with cascading dark hair and stunning breasts that she frequently showcased in low-cut blouses. Half the student body was constantly inventing excuses to book a session with her. Zack had even claimed PTSD from the brief but brutal war he’d witnessed just to get some face time. Surprisingly, she’d actually made him feel better, even if he spent most of the hour fixated on her chest. He’d definitely have to push his dad to attend ... for “informational reasons,” of course.
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